


Hurt

by WordyCoward



Category: One Piece
Genre: Blood, Crying, Depression, Flash Fic, M/M, Men Crying, Metaphors, Similes, Swords, Usopp-centric (One Piece)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28376457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordyCoward/pseuds/WordyCoward
Summary: Usopp's mind is a storm. His smile is a shield. Neither can stop a swordsman's piercing love, no matter how much that love hurts.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Usopp
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended as a vent fic. I've been struggling lately. I have the support of others but sometimes that makes it hurt more. I wanted to project those feelings onto Usopp.

"You're gonna wake up one day and they'll be gone."

Usopp's smile faltered. He pressed it back on and continue with his tale, arms wide, voice loud, words rolling off his lips as if planned days in advance. Luffy laughed. He always laughed. It filled Usopp with warmth, even when his thoughts twisted, writhed, and willed numbness or soul biting chill with winds and words. Usopp was here. Usopp was present. Usopp was not considering how he'd feel when he finally woke up, seventeen, on Syrup Island, his two years of adventure shattered, splintered, stripped, and sealed beneath the sea of slumber that told him with increasing cruelty, "Yes, Usopp, you can travel the world with these people, even with how weak you are."

No, it was real. Usopp knew the pain, saw the scars, brushed his fingers over battle wounds, his own and others. He had dreams and nightmares he scrambled to piece together once the Thousand Sunny set sail each morning, but the journey as a whole was not one of them. It was real.

But they would be dreams eventually.

These adventures wouldn't last forever. These figures would leave him. These days would end and he would go back to an island that would no longer feel like home to wait for another ship, crossbones flying high, the song of freedom mingling with laughter in the air.

"Hey."

Usopp jumped. A warm hand caught his arm and pulled him back, saving him from the blue depths outside the ship. His head jerked back, eyes wide, mouth open.

Green. Tan. Spots of gold. Scars that marred the landscape of flesh. One emerald eye pierced to him, through him, and dug through Usopp's own scar-scattered skin. Usopp wanted to smile, wanted to pull up his shield and keep the sword from cutting too deep. He was a weapon. He hurt. If Usopp could keep the blade on the surface, only a little blood would trickle free and he would be safe. He would feel safe. It wasn't too late.

Before Usopp could slam the shield between them, the man sliced. The air between them fell to pieces. The man that closed in. Usopp blinked. He missed the point of the steel. He didn't miss the tip - the man's kiss - cool on his forehead. It pierced past muscles, past bone, past everything Usopp hoped would hold him together when the blade cut too deep.

"Zoro..."

Usopp whispered the name so soft he thought the wind carried the two syllables away. Instead, arms encircled him. Warmth, dirt, steel, salt mixed with sweat brushed against his nose, his chest, his whole being.

"I'm here."

Blood poured from Usopp's soul, his heart, his eyes, in hot streaks. He trembled, reached, grasped, entangled fingers in the fabrics before him. Brown and green: an island in his storm-struck sea. Rains came for that island, along with sobbing thunder.


End file.
